After Eugene dies, Frank mulls over the messages of martyrdom he hears from his father and his communion teacher in a moment full of situational irony and pathos. His father claims “it’s a glorious thing to die for Ireland,” while his communion teacher insists “it’s a glorious thing to die for the Faith," but Frank is confused:
The master says it’s a glorious thing to die for the Faith and Dad says it’s a glorious thing to die for Ireland and I wonder if there’s anyone in the world who would like us to live. My brothers are dead and my sister is dead and I wonder if they died for Ireland or the Faith. Dad says they were too young to die for anything. Mam says it was disease and starvation and him never having a job. Dad says, Och, Angela, puts on his cap and goes for a long walk.
Situational irony appears here in the disconnect between the glorified idea of dying for a cause and the harsh reality of everyday survival that surrounds Frank. While the adults all around him preach the nobility of dying for faith or country, Frank’s own siblings have all died quietly and ignobly at home of starvation and illness. Frank’s siblings have passed away not for any grand cause, but from poverty and medical neglect. When Angela points out that “disease and starvation” are to blame for the family’s suffering, not a noble mission, Malachy Sr. reacts frustratedly and leaves. As in other situations where he’s accused of something bad, Malachy Sr. refuses to accept any blame.
The author also uses pathos here to make the reader see just how pitiful Frank’s situation is. Frank’s quiet questioning of whether “anyone in the world would like us to live” is eerily somber and mature for a young child. He doesn’t know whether living is even considered a good thing. Even though he’s watched his father painfully grieve his dead brothers and sister, Frank is confused because Malachy Sr. also repeatedly glorifies death to his sons.
In this passage, McCourt uses hyperbole and pathos to convey Frank’s conflicted feelings for his father, Malachy Sr., despite his father’s frequent failures. Frank reflects on the early mornings he shares with his father, when Malachy Sr. is mostly still sober and attentive. He says he cannot hate him, because
How can I do that when I’m up with him early every morning with the whole world asleep? He lights the fire and makes the tea and sings to himself or reads the paper to me in a whisper that won’t wake up the rest of the family. [...] In the morning we have the world to ourselves and he never tells me I should die for Ireland.
By exaggeratedly describing mornings with his dad as a time when “the whole world [is] asleep,” the author shows the reader the intimacy and warmth Frank feels when he and Malachy Sr. are alone together. When everyone else in the world is asleep, this time feels special and private, and Frank has his father’s full attention. This quiet, isolated world with a kind, intelligent parent taking care of him contrasts with the chaos that often comes later in the day. During these mornings, Frank doesn’t have to fear his father drinking all of their money away or doing embarrassing things in public.
The pathos of this moment evokes sympathy in the reader for both Malachy Sr. and young Frank. Frank’s loyal affection for his father is touching. These tender moments keep Frank's love for his dad alive. They're the small gestures that keep Frank from fully resenting his father, allowing the reader—alongside Frank—to glimpse the person Malachy Sr. might be if circumstances were different. Frank clings to moments like these, even though he and the reader both know by this point that Malachy Sr.’s next drunken episode is inevitably approaching.